


Let's Run (For Tonight Only)

by NotASmoothOperator



Series: Destructive Tendencies [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Band Fic, Coming Out, Cussing, Kinda, M/M, Making Out, Stan and Kyle are 20 so, Underage Drinking, lots of cussing, this happens before Baby I'm Going To Hell btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 05:23:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15623496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASmoothOperator/pseuds/NotASmoothOperator
Summary: This is the night that changed everything for them. They just don't know it yet. Stan and Kyle might be losers, but at least they've always had each other. And Stan's blink-182 CD. ( Part of a series but is more of a prequel anyways so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )





	Let's Run (For Tonight Only)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot that I might make a full story after Baby I'm Going To Hell, which focuses on Craig and Tweek instead of Stan and Kyle. Or maybe I'll write enough break chapters with Style drama in it.

“Hey, dude?” 

Stan loved the way his best friend said that phrase, Kyle’s whisper carrying with such seriousness and sincerity toward him. From the living room floor Kyle’s eyes reflected the television’s glare, those eyes calculating on his pensive face and a direct contrast to the re-runs of Terrance and Phillip they were currently watching. Or maybe it had just been Stan actually participating in reminiscing their childhood since there was no way Kyle Broflovski was getting all philosophical over fart jokes that hadn’t been new to them for a good twelve years.

_Damn_. That was weird to think about; the two had been watching this show for twelve years? Really? Was this show really that great or did both of them just have issues with letting go of their childhood?

“ _Dude_.” Kyle hissed, waving his hand in an attempt to draw back Stan’s wondering attention.

“Sorry.” Stan smiled, holding back a grin at his friend’s glare. “What’s up?” He finally whispered back. Both of them stuck on acting like Stan’s parents could hear them from the downstairs living room, even as twenty year olds, together they just seemed to be lost in time; always reverting to their eight year-old selves.

“I’m not trying to be a total bummer right now but…” Kyle’s eyes flickered up to the ceiling for a moment before returning to Stan’s dark blue eyes. “We’re kind of losers.”

Stan’s eyebrows rose an he chuckled before raising up from the couch on an elbow, “Nah, man, you’re just thinking of yourself.” Stan blocked the pillow Kyle threw in exasperation at him.

“I mean, seriously, like if we were to disappear- _no one_ would miss us.” Kyle sat up, staring Stan’s humor away with his seriousness. Stan opened his mouth but Kyle’s wavering whisper interrupted, “Dude, we’re fucking twenty, we still live with our parents, we use their garages for ‘band practice’ like delusional douchebags, and because we didn’t get into our dream colleges, we fucking sat around for a year and now we’re both considering on just not even _going_. We’re deadbeats, we’re _losers_ -.”

“So why are we still here?” Stan interrupted Kyle now, sitting up completely.

“What?” Kyle’s face morphed into confusion.

“Dude, you’re right. Who cares? So what? Why are we still here? Let’s go.” Stan gave Kyle a challenging smile voice going to a normal volume, moving to stand up and stretch now, even in his stained sweatpants and wrinkled shirt he had no intention of going to sleep now.

“ _Stan_ -!” Kyle whispered vehemently, cut short by Stan hauling him to his feet by his arm. Face to face with Stan’s carefree stance and lazy grin illuminated by the T.V., he had the look of someone powerful, whose invitation was supposed to be accepted wholeheartedly with not even the expectation someone should suggest different. Kyle’s brain stuttered trying to find a protest to offer but he found none as he gazed back into Stan’s eyes. Stan leaned closer, Kyle’s heart raced in excitement and fear at the appearance of this rare Stan.

“Who cares?” Stan’s grin grew as Kyle’s face flushed.

“Fuck it, let’s disappear.” Kyle whispered back, not because he wanted to be quiet, but he was being choked by something from the inside and it was all he could offer.

“Sick.”

With that Stan had Kyle’s hand in his as they stumbled into the Marsh’s garage, grabbing at their equipment, which consisted of Stan’s dad’s electric guitar and Kyle’s more privileged electric and acoustic guitars. They then moved to anchoring and hiding their guitar cases in the truck bed of Stan’s 1995 Ford pickup with old comforters that had nothing better to do. The doors slammed in excitement, the two taking a moment to grin at each other in their pajamas and messy hair before Stan cranked his truck and tore out of the driveway, as if there was anyone out to chase after them at midnight in their Podunk town.

Kyle’s fiery hair spun wildly, dancing in the air that whipped through the lowered windows of the cab, both belting out lyrics to Stan’s favorite blink-182 CD, somehow still finding immature glee in shouting the word “ _whore,_ ” as dramatically as they could. But as soon as the song ended Stan cranked down the volume, much to Kyle’s surprise.

“ _Dude_ , is this song a little gay?”

Kyle belted out laughter at Stan’s question.

“No? Just cause he’s saying girls are a drag doesn’t mean he’d rather fuck dudes.” Kyle couldn’t help his giggling at Stan’s distraught face.

“But… _Dude_.”

“ _Dude_.” Kyle mocked back at Stan, earning a swat to his leg. Stan was grinning now, obviously not serious about his supposed song dilemma.

“So if I think girls are a hassle that _doesn’t_ mean I’m gay?” Stan asked, feigning bright curiosity.

“No.” Kyle rubbed his cheeks, they were hurting from all this smiling; Stan did this to him so often that Kyle’s surprised he still feels it.

“But what if I like hanging out with dudes more than chicks?”

“…No?”

“What if I told you-”

“Stan, are you trying to come out to me right now?” Kyle laughed, teasing and moving closer to Stan over the bench seat. Stan sucked in a breath, glancing at Kyle from the corner of his eyes. He let out a rushed,

“I guess.”

“…Oh.” Kyle paused, pulling back a little on account of feeling a bit guilty for his teasing tone moments before.

“Dude, then yeah, that all makes you gay.”

Stan let out a harsh breath, his hands on the steering wheel, which had been shaking seconds later calmed in their vibrations, he shot his best friend a look, “You don’t think anything different of me?”

“No.” Kyle said for what felt like the hundredth time already, but this one was softer as he smiled reassuringly back at Stan. “And, uh, if it-you know-makes you feel any better, I’m really not sure what I am when it comes to my, uh, sexuality.” Kyle laughed out nervously. The cab felt electric in the wake of their confessions, it was alarming to find out something you didn’t know about a person you’d been friends with all of your life, especially if you were super best friends like Stan and Kyle.

“Nothing wrong there, dude.” Stan’s smile was funny, like his face really didn’t know how to react and one of his hands came up off of the wheel to the back of his burning neck to scratch at the burn awkwardly.

“Ha, yeah.” Kyle’s smile was awkward at best as he stared at his lap, fingers twisting around the frayed, loose strings from his plaid pajama bottoms.

“Can I turn the music back up?” Stan asked, fingers already on the knob.

“Fuck-please.” Stan and Kyle laughed together before drowning it out by blaring “Wendy Clear” and the electric air in the cab eased to something more dull but still prickled at both boys’ skin as they tore through streets leading away from South Park.

It wasn’t until they reached Denver that the two cranked the music back down, needing to figure out where their late-night rebellion would lead them.

“Do you just wanna hit up a bar to start with or something?” Stan suggested, eyeing a pretty run-down looking bar, lit up by way too many neon lights, he had to squint a little to look at it.

“I don’t have my fake.” Kyle groaned, pulling out the wallet he’d grabbed from his overnight bag on his way out.

“I _really_ don’t think this place will care.” Stan raised his eyebrows, challenging Kyle once more, and once more Kyle accepted it.

“Just-I don’t feel like having to call my mom out here to pick me up or whatever they do to underage kids without even a fake to show.”

Stan chose to understand this as consent from the way Kyle sighed and fell back into the seat, slouching.

“Well, while I really don’t think they’ll do more than kick you out, we can always run.” Stan nudged Kyle with a free elbow before turning into the parking lot, illuminated more so by the neon lights rather than the street light.

Stan jumped out eagerly whereas Kyle slid from his seat and out onto the concrete.

“ _Open-mic_ , dude!” Stan grabbed Kyle by the shoulders. Kyle squinted at the sign behind Stan,

“Pretty sure it’s not open this late.”

“I’m bringing my guitar anyways.” Stan jumped up on the back of his truck, throwing the corner of the comforter off of a guitar case.

“That’s mine, Stan.” Kyle huffed, slightly irked, even more so when he caught Stan mocking him under his breath. “Give it. I’ll take it in, whatever.” Stan smirked and Kyle had to fight a small smile off, determined not to let his friend have the pleasure.

“Hell yeah, let’s _rock_.” Stan rushed them both through the bar’s door in the matter of seconds.

The inside was only slightly better than the outside, dark but lit up by the neon lights around the shelves of alcohol and windows. Surprisingly for both of them, the bar wasn’t that vacant, the few cars in the lot must have been carpools of local college students as there were at least fifteen other people in the little bar, scattered in groups at the tables and on the bar stools. A few drunken guys played a horrible but loud game of darts in the far corner, their backs facing a little stage that would barely fit three people and was lifted by a foot from the rest of the floor. Stan waggled his eyebrows at Kyle upon spotting it, sauntering over to the countertop where a worn, middle-aged woman stood behind, observing her patrons’ drinks and arranging glasses. Kyle wrinkled his nose at the rag she wiped the glasses with but the tipsy college students didn’t seem to mind. The woman behind the counter raised her brow at Stan when he leaned against the wood top, Kyle sighed and followed after Stan, adjusting the straps to the case on his back.

“Oh, so you’re not jokin’.” The woman appraised as Kyle walked behind Stan, guitar case in view. “Alright, kids, you’re welcome to play a couple songs but I ain’t gonna help you out if you get booed by these other brats.” She quirked a side of her mouth, gesturing to the obnoxious dart throwers. “I’d probably keep it to some classic rock if I were you, something most people would know.” She suggested, shrugging.

Stan grinned at Kyle, “Dammit.” Kyle sighed.

“How’s Kansas?” Stan asked the woman who chuckled.

“Knock yourselves out. Now get on with it boys, if you guys are any good maybe I’ll give you each a drink on the house.”

Stan looked ecstatic and Kyle couldn’t help grinning either. They set up after Stan ran back to his truck to grab his guitar, the one microphone set up in the middle of the stage to be shared by the two boys. Stan and Kyle tuned their guitars, checking the sound, and drew the interest of everyone in the bar. The bar hushed to murmurs and whispering, Kyle felt the nerves spike up his chest and his fingers shook lightly. Stan gave him a light kick to the shin with his foot, catching his attention before testing the mic with a greeting,

“Hey, I hope you guys are drunk enough to like this.” He got a couple laughs in response, one of them being Kyle’s. Stan leaned over to Kyle, away from the mic, “You ready?” Another challenge. Damn Stan and whatever radioactive cool-kid that bit him recently, making Kyle follow his lead with no questions asked.

“Yeah.”

After that, Stan kicked off with the lead, Kyle a second behind. The dart throwers were the first to cheer and Kyle bit down on his cheek. Nerves faded away with each happy face he could see and he felt a sudden rush, high on the positive attention as a group from the tables made their way in front of the stage to dance and egg them on. Stan and Kyle ended up putting on a funnier show than first planned when their excitement got to be too much for them, both showing off in dramatic movements and getting in the other’s space to do something that could hardly be considered dancing with their guitars in the way.

When the song ended, they both caught their breath, the exuberant cheers of the bar-goers ringing in their ears, even though the crowd wasn’t that big, they were quite drunk. Kyle’s face felt like it could split in half as he gazed at Stan, his chest was going to explode any minute. Stan mirrored him, feeling the same. _God._ Kyle wanted to pull Stan’s face close to his, that swelling seemed to worsen just looking at him like this. So when Stan asked him if he wanted to play another song of course Kyle responded with, “ _Fucking yes_ , dude.”

Stan and Kyle, Kyle and Stan, whoever they were, they were praised by the small crowd of college students. Egged on for about an hour to do more classic hits and even a repeat of Kansas, until the crowd seemed to be getting either too drunk or worn out, they finally set their guitars down and walked to the bar where their free drinks were already being poured by the bartender. She smiled at them when they each slid into a stool,

“Boys if you wanna come back and play next Saturday, you’re more than welcome to.” Stan’s head turned to look at Kyle so fast, Kyle had to flinch back out of surprise.

“Sure.” Kyle laughed, holding out a hand to the bartender. She took it in her own and gave a firm shake. “As long as the offer for free drinks stands.” He slipped in and the woman threw her head back and let out a laugh.

“You got it, kid.”

Stan threw his upper body against Kyle’s, “Duuuude, we’re rockstars.” Kyle responded by raising his glass in a toast that Stan eagerly participated in. Both threw back their drinks and grinned at the bartender. She rolled her eyes pleasantly before refilling their cups, “That’s whiskey, boys, I wouldn’t do that with each glass I pour you.”

They did anyways.

By the eighth, she shooed them away from the bar, chuckling to herself about young people and regrets. Stan conned two beers from her before leaving with Kyle perched against his elbow, both staggering out to the truck.

“Bet…” Stan held out one of the beers to Kyle as they sat in the truck, warming up from the early morning chill inside. Kyle took it with a face that seemed cocky to Stan, but to any sober person would have looked just goofy.

“Bet, what, _Stanly_.” Kyle slurred.

“Bet I can finish my beer faster than-than you can finish yours.” Stan raised the bottle like a mighty sword above his head. Kyle laughed, leaning and slightly swaying forward towards Stan.

“And what do I get when I beat you?” Kyle flicked Stan’s forehead teasingly.

“The winner gets a kiss, obviously.” Stan declared, face red from a mixture of embarrassment and drunkenness.

“Obviously.” Kyle nodded his head in soldier like seriousness and raised his beer out to Stan’s.

“On your mark…” Stan started, eyes narrowing, “get set…” Stan pushed his bottle to his lips before shouting a quick, “go!”

Kyle nearly missed his mouth, rushing his own bottle to his mouth, trying not to bitch about cheating because it would only take more time away from his side of the chugging contest.

Stan, the pro-drinker-slash-cheater he was, won with a sharp victorious cry that had Kyle choking on his beer in alarm.

Kyle tried to catch the dribbles of beer running down his chin, grunting in protest of Stan’s “victory”. His friend laughed, pushing over the bench seat to be knee-to-knee with Kyle, whose back slid against the metal door, unable to move away from the dirty cheater with how his legs were currently pulled underneath him.

“Wasteful.” Stan sighed, placing his hands on Kyle’s shoulders before leaning his face closer to Kyle’s. Kyle’s breath shook as Stan’s tongue shot out and licked up from his chin to the underside of his lip. Stan drew back slightly,

“Now I even finished your beer for you so I definitely win.” Stan was a smug bastard. Kyle tried his best to scowl but couldn’t quite, so he conceded and did the next best retaliation he could think of. Kyle kissed Stan’s nose quickly before laughing,

“There! Now shut your cheating face up.”

Stan pouted, “Dude, you know I meant on the mouth!”

“Nope, that was never in the bet’s conditions. You only said a kiss, and you didn’t specify where!” Kyle felt himself sticking out his tongue childishly. Stan’s pout deepened,

“Fine.” Stan grabbed Kyle’s smirking face between his hands and held him in place before lurching forward, pressing his mouth against Kyle’s harshly. Kyle’s head knocked back against the window but the alcohol numbed the pain, instead he was immersed in the sloppy kiss. He groaned before he could help himself, sticky beer hands pushed into Stan’s greasy hair. They were gross but in their haze they felt like this moment was the hottest either had ever experienced, Stan pressed his body as far against Kyle’s as he could. The swelling in their chests returned as they released heated pants against each other’s lips, Kyle grabbed the neck of Stan’s sleep shirt tightly as Stan’s hands found their way behind Kyle, shoved between the seat and Kyle’s ass. He lifted the other boy forward until Kyle was forced to crawl onto Stan’s lap, his hands tightening further in the grasp of Stan’s messy hair and collar. After a quick retaliation tug, Kyle dropped his hands to slide underneath Stan’s shirt and let his palms flatten against the newfound skin. Stan sucked in a breath, the cold shock of Kyle’s hands on his stomach snapping him out of a haze he didn’t realize he was in.

“Kyle.” Stan whispered drawing back from his friend’s face. His burning hands halting in his frantic attempts to grab at his best friend’s ass. Kyle seemed to slow down and become more aware of himself in the gaze as well, his hands still idly brushing against the skin on Stan’s stomach.

“Oh, wow.” Kyle whispered back, voice shaking.

“I-as much as I…”

“We need to stop.”

“Yeah…” Stan closed his eyes, breathing deeply and trying to slow down his heart rate. A forehead met his gently, opening his eyes he saw Kyle’s eyes closed, eyebrows knit together. Stan could barely think about what this was for them, his only option was to ignore it for the moment.

“I’m tired.” Kyle whispered finally, pulling his hands out from underneath Stan’s shirt finally.

Stan shifted onto his back, bringing Kyle down with him to rest against his neck without a word. Stan absent-mindedly checked to make sure the doors were locked before closing his eyes like Kyle. Both laid there, trying to shut off their minds and calm down their breathing. Tucked in against each other they eventually fell asleep.

What was probably only a few hours later, the bright light of the sunrise and a knocking against the window stirred Stan from sleep. Head echoing each knock, he glared out the window to see a policeman standing at the driver’s window. Stan’s hear thudded to a stop as he moved to roll down the window.

“Yes, officer?” Stan’s voice cracked from the wear and alcohol of the festivities hours before. The policeman’s face scrunched up in slight disgust and Stan was overly aware of Kyle’s sleeping body tangled in with his own, his head had dropped into Stan’s lap when he’d sat up.

“You boys need to get out of here, go home you can’t stay parked here overnight and past business hours.” His voice was sharp and Stan flinched.

“Yessir.”

“And you boys don’t need to be doing things like _that_ out in public, you hear me?” The policeman grunted before turning his disapproving gaze away and walking to his car parked a couple spaces away. Stan’s heart raced and he blearily shook Kyle awake.

“Dude, get up. We gotta go.” Kyle sat up, squinting at Stan. Stan let out an aggravated sigh, pushing Kyle back against the passenger seat and buckled him in despite Kyle’s hands batting at his own.

“We gotta go.” He repeated and Kyle looked out the windshield to see the cop car before sobering up a bit. He gave a grunt in agreement. Stan pulled out of the parking lot as fast as he could _legally_. Just relieved to be out of sight, away from the cop’s stare.

The music was left off for the drive back to South Park, the only thing spoken between the two friends was when the sign welcoming travelers into South Park came into view.

“Well that was fun. Pretty sure ma is going to find out somehow.” Kyle bit his knuckle absently.

Stan snuck a glance at Kyle, “Yeah, but who cares?”

Kyle let his hand fall away and he smiled for the first time since waking up, he looked back at Stan, “Who cares?” He echoed.


End file.
